Six In The Afternoon
by annastern2009
Summary: Its the same thing every night. It's to think about, and even worse to see it when he dreams about it. Tango's just wants it all to stop.; Steve/Tango


Tango grabbed the laundry basket in front of him, sorting through all the clothing, folding them as he went, the blanket wrapped lazily around his shoulders as he sat on the bed. Their house was always cooler than he tended to like, but that was okay. Steve liked it that way, and it seemed that their twin children liked it the same way. Twin children. It still seemed strange to him, to find himself as a father. He never saw it coming, to be honest, he didn't think he had deserved to have that. To be a father, a husband, to have people depend on him in a way he thought wasn't meant for his future. Yet, he somehow had found it. It amazed him somedays. The blanket kept him warm as he worked, his slender fingers going between his own shirts and Steve's, and the little clothes of his one year old children.

His partner had left for the day with Stephanie, his baby girl, his princess, and Avery, his little boy with the same eyes and dimples as Steve's. They were going to see their grandparents two states over, though it was hardly that long of a drive. He would have went with, but he needed to do stuff around the house, like laundry, and cleaning. They didn't do it enough, and with how often the two babies got dirty, they needed to keep all of the clothes they could clean. Lord knew they went through three or four outfits a day. So with a quick kiss to his husband of two years, and smothering both of the little ones with kisses and hugs, hating to be away from them, he let them go, using the day to himself to work.

Once all of the laundry was sorted, folded, and laid out on the bed in stacks for him to put away, he leaned back, pulling the blanket close around him, a soft yawn escaping through his tired lips. His chocolate eyes flickered to the clock, the fact that it was already six in the afternoon surprising him. Steve had called about three hours ago, saying that they were getting in the car and on their way back home. It was only a two hour drive the way his partner drove to get from his parents house, to their house. Letting his feet fall to the floor with muted 'thuds', he padded out into the living room, keeping the cover around him as he moved, not wanting the cooler air of the house to invade his space just yet.

It felt empty to him without the other three with him in the house. Tango was used to having at least the twins at home, even if Steve was at work. In all honesty, he doubted the twins had left his side since the day they brought them home from the hospital, and that was just under a year ago. It made him antsy, being away from them. God, he was such a father, and it wasn't something he had been expecting. He was so attached to them, to Steve, that it made him almost afraid to be alone anymore. He knew that he would be okay, though, if he could just relax. Letting out another brief yawn, he padded his way into the kitchen, his fingers grabbing one of the bottles of beer they kept pushed into the very back for when they just needed to relax, and this was one of those times. He popped the cap off of the top, taking a light sip of it, letting the disgusting, relaxing liquid slide down his throat. Instantly, though the shrill scream of the telephone made him turn in surprise, he set the bottle down gently, moving over towards it.

As he picked up the phone, another soft yawn leaving his mouth, he put it to his ear, speaking softly. "Tango residence, this is Dave speaking."

"Mr. Tango, this is Dr. Hendrix, from the Linden City Hospital. There is something I need to talk to you about..."

A furrow came to Tango's brow as he leaned his hip against the counter in the kitchen, one hand resting on the top of it, the other holding the phone to his ear. The hospital? What could they possibly be calling about? None of them had went in for tests lately, and they still had another month before Stephanie and Avery were due in for their one-year checkup.

"..There was an accident between the city of Springfield, Massachusetts, and Linden, New Jersey. Sir, your husband and children were involved in this car accident. We have them here at the hospital..."

His blood ran cold through his body, the hand that was on counter curling into a tight fist. There had been an accident. Steve and his twin children had been in an accident. Oh god. Why did he let them go? They were hurt because he let them go. Why didn't he go with them? He should have been there, maybe they wouldn't have gotten hurt. He took a deep breath, though, the cell phone still to his ear as he snatched up the keys to the car, already slipping into his shoes as the doctor kept talking. There had been an accident.

"...We need you to come identify the bodies for us, Mr. Tango. I'm sorry, we- we did everything we could, but when the ambulance arrived, they pronounced Steve Gonsalves-Tango DOA. They had Stephanie and Avery in the ambulance and steady, but something went wrong.. they lost them just before arriving at the hospital..."

The cellphone fell to the gravel that the car was parked on, clanking as it hit the rocks, hanging up on the doctor midway through his sentence. Not a second later, Tango's knees fell beside the cellphone. His face was blank, his hands clasping hard into his shirt, his knuckles white through the strain. No, no no, how.. not all of them, how could everyone he needed be taken away? It had to be fate getting back at him for coveting Steve when he had no right to the male. It was getting back at them for having children, when the surely hadn't deserved little angels such as them. Was that all he was able to have? Two and a half years of pure happiness, before everything in his life got taken, before his world got turned upside down? Well, it sure as hell seemed like it.

His eyes drifted down to his left hand, the stones on his wedding ring glinting with the fading sun light, and he felt it. He felt his heart fall, and shatter on the gravel below him. If he had looked, he was almost sure he could have seen the red shards, dripping with his blood below him, letting that life source drip out of him, taking his strength with it. He saw, more than felt, the tears dripping onto the jeans that covered his legs - long streams of them. He saw his arm shaking, as he looked down, he realized that everything on him was shaking. Crossing his arms over his stomach, he leaned his head forward, letting the anguish take ahold of him, shaking his frame, making him feel sick. The wrenching sounds escaped from his mouth, one hand moving out to brace himself on the side of the car as the contents of his stomach made their presence onto the gravel. His heart, his tears, everything in his body... It all hurt, and.. and he had no way to make it better now. Oh god..

Tango jolted upright instantly, the blanket that had been curled around his body as he napped in his bedroom falling down to his waist. The sudden cold air clung to the sweat on his body, making him shiver, though he didn't notice. Before he could do anything else, he listened. He could hear anything, nothing, besides... a song? Next, his eyes went to the clock, and the moment he saw that it was Six PM, he felt his body tense, tears flooding to his eyes. Not again. Oh god, not again, he couldn't do it again. It hurt so much the first time, why did his mind bring it back again. Every night, every single fucking night. The tears fell from his eyes as he brought his knees up to his chest, his slender arms wrapping around them, his forehead falling to rest on the tops of them, the song that he head finally registering in his mind.

"...The statue stands in a shaded place. An angel girl with an upturned face. Her name is written on a polished rock. A broken heart that the world forgot. Through the wind, and the rain, she stands hard as a stone, in a world she can't rise above. But her dreams, give her wings, and she flies to a place where she's loved, Concrete Angel."

His body started to shake as he rolled to the left, falling onto his side, curled up in the middle of the bed. The tears continued to fall fast, his arms tight around his legs as he let that pain take him over again. Steve... and his twins... how could that happen? What did that give him to live for now? Nothing! His mind.. and fate... god, he couldn't even think straight, couldn't see clearly, even though he tried to open his eyes. The song that he had heard faintly in the background drew to a close, and he let out a shaky breath, burying his face into his pillow. He couldn't deal with this, it hurt so much, too much for any human being to survive to have it in their body.

Through the haze of his tears and mental anguish, he felt something touch his shoulder. He slowly turned his head, expecting to find nothing, just a memory of what he once had. Instead he was greeted by Steve's face, contorted with obvious confusion and worry.

"Dave, dave, hey, what's wrong? What is it, baby, what happened?"

That voice... it was... it was all a dream. He knew that, he had that dream constantly, but most of the time, Steve was there when he woke up. He usually had evidence right away that he was dreaming. But he had been alone, and the time... A sob broke through his throat as he reached out, his hands clinging to his husband as he curled into him, his face finding solitude in the male's chest, inhaling his scent and using it as comfort. He felt hesitant hands rub lightly on his back, trying to calm him, but it wasn't helping. He couldn't get control over the tears or his shaking.

"David, baby, you have to talk to me. What is it, why are you crying like this?"

Instead, he just shook his head. He couldn't talk, he just needed those arms around him, to let him know that it was all a dream, that he hadn't lost this guy, that he still had his husband and his children. Slowly, the tears stopped falling, his body not shaking though every once in a while through silent hiccups from crying. The hands continued to move on his back gently, relaxing him, bringing him back to the present and away from his nightmare.

"Are you okay, hun? I'm worried, will you talk to me, please?"

Slowly, Tango raised his head, looking at the worried face of the male in front of him. He couldn't tell him about the dream. He couldn't tell him that almost every night that he actually slept, he had nightmares about loosing him, that those dreams were part of the reason he didn't sleep that often. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat, and as he spoke, he could hear the effects of crying on his voice. It sounded raspy, and he had to stop to clear his throat again halfway through. "Just a, a nightmare, Steve. I'm fine, I, I promise. It just scared me."

"Are you sure? Dave, you... I hate seeing you like that. What was the dream?"

He watched the other with red eyes, seeing the evident pain of what had just happened flicker across his face. There was no way he could tell him about it. It hurt him enough just seeing Tango like that, crying, without knowing why. If he told him why he had been crying... Shaking his head, he swallowed lightly. "I don't remember. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Arms wrapped around him, cutting off his words as they pulled him close to his lovers body, crushing him against him, holding him close.

"Don't, don't say sorry. It's not your fault. I'm sorry you had a nightmare, baby."

Nodding, he let Steve hold him for another second, before he pushed away, climbing off of the bed on shaky feet, and he felt his partner's hands rest on his hips, just in case he fell. He led the way, though, moving down the hallway and into the nursery, instantly moving over to Avery's crib, looking down at the angelic face on his baby boy. His hand slowly moved down, resting on the boy's cheek, his thumb moving gently under his eye, silent tears falling again. Staying there a second, he leaned down, his lips finding Avery's forehead and kissing it, before he turned and moved over to Stephanie's crib. His princess, his little baby girl. Reaching down, he grabbed her up into his arms, though his hand did the same motion, as did his lips.

They were okay. All okay. It was just a dream. He could still hear the doctors words, but as he looked between the baby girl in his arms, the baby boy in the crib beside him, and the man standing behind him, watching him with concern, he smiled softly, nodding as Steve did the same. Just a dream


End file.
